


Blank Canvas

by Rawrbin



Series: Omega Dick Week 2020 [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Bites, Omega Dick Grayson, Polyamory, Rape, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawrbin/pseuds/Rawrbin
Summary: "Don't!" he snarls, baring his fangs in a last ditch effort to ward off the alpha. It does no good though, and the next second he can feel his blocker patches being ripped off violently.Dick tenses. He's very good at controlling his scent, thanks again to Bruce's training, but no one can hide it completely. The leader leans in, pressing his nose into Dick's gland, and inhales deeply. Dick's stomach rolls."So the great Nightwing is anomega."-Nightwing runs into trouble when he gets injured on a mission and is captured by a group of alpha thugs. Things go from bad to worse when they discover that he is an unmarked omega. Will either of his alpha partners arrive in time to save him before one of the thugs leaves their own mark on him?Written for Omega Dick Week Day 5: Multiple Partners/Alphas
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Original Character(s), Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Series: Omega Dick Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851487
Comments: 6
Kudos: 223
Collections: Omega!Dick Week





	Blank Canvas

Nightwing has been in more ideal situations before. 

Namely ones where he wasn't down on the ground with a busted leg, gun pointed at his head, surrounded by a group of jeering alpha thugs. 

This should have been a simple bust, taking out the warehouse full of henchmen and calling the cops to come pick up their cargo. Only fate (or poor building maintenance) had been against him, and when he was swinging into the warehouse the support beam he'd hooked his grapple to _snapped_ , sending him tumbling down to the ground. 

Dick was a flying Grayson, he knew how to stick a landing, but somehow doing it while also flailing around trying to avoid a barrage of gunfire aiming at you was much more difficult. He'd landed hard on his left leg, crumpling underneath him. He didn't _think_ it was broken, fortunately, but he was far from mobile at the moment. 

The only positive of the whole ordeal was that the falling beam had taken out two of the thugs for him. Unfortunately that still left ten surrounding him now. 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" one of them says, stepping forward. He has an air of authority that gives Dick the impression that he's the manager, so to speak, of this warehouse operation, but his casual clothes tell him that he's definitely not the brains behind it, just a higher level of hired muscle. The top dogs tended to want people to know it, so they usually dressed to impress. 

Around him the goons jeer as Manager grins down at him like the cat that caught the canary. Or the robin. Or whatever kind of bird Dick was now. Either way, the grin was unsettling. 

He scans the room looking for something he can use, but comes up empty. The busted leg puts a wrench in any plans he could come up with anyways. He resigns himself to the fact that he's going to have to take a beating, then make his escape later when they inevitably leave him with far too few guards. For now he looks longingly at the goon who's twirling his escrima sticks around in his hands inexpertly. Dick really wants to see the guy shock himself by accident. 

Manager starts on some rant, but Dick tunes him out. Honestly he's still embarrassed about his sloppy entrance more than anything. It was very un-Nightwing of him. He's supposed to be a picture of grace, swooping in and striking fear into the hearts of criminals. 

Manager steps forward now, and oops, Dick should have been listening so he could warn him, but it's too late now because the head thug is already reaching out for his mask. An electric shock pulses through it and Manager cries out as he retracts his hand, cradling it to his body. 

"Sorry, pal. That's a no-no." 

The alpha growls, scent of pain and irritation wafting from him. Dick's used to it by now, had to be in this line of work, but he still scrunches his nose up against the stink. Hurt alphas smelled nasty, and they all seemed to be piss-poor at controlling the scent. Dick's convinced that underneath all the bravado all alphas are really just giant babies. 

"Take off your mask," he barks the order, alpha-command behind it. Dick barely twitches. Bruce has trained him well. Many torturous hours in his youth were spent with Bruce giving him command after command and coaching Dick on how to resist them. He greatly appreciates it now. Bruce on the other hand may slightly regret that he can't boss Dick around with his commands anymore. 

"No thanks," he replies, easy smile taunting him. He's starting to get bored and his leg is aching where he's being forced to kneel on it. They need to hurry this along so he can find an opening and get out of here. 

The alpha growls and suddenly Dick is being pistol whipped across the face. The force of the blow knocks his head to the side, breaking the contact with the gun the alpha behind him had pressed against his skull. Were he in peak condition this is where he would have taken the tiny opening as an opportunity to flip up and kick the gun out of his hand before making his escape. 

As it is he just rolls his head with the blow and slightly regrets his choice to anger Mr. Manager. 

"Won't show us your face huh? Well we have other secrets we can get from you. Bruno, get his suit." 

"M-me boss?" the thug apparently called Bruno replies, an unmistakable tinge of fear tainting his scent now. 

For a bunch of alphas they sure were cowards. Luckily for Bruno Dick's suit was not charged the way his mask was. He wasn't about to let them know that though. 

"Yes, you. Now!" 

Bruno steps forward hesitantly. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dick warns him. 

Bruno pauses for a moment, looking up to Manager's face. Whatever he sees there must have been more dangerous than an electric shock, because the next moment he's fumbling with the zipper at the back of Dick's neck. 

Fuck. 

He finally figures out the clasp and slowly pulls it down, revealing Dick's back. Then he's peeling the suit down, rolling it off down Dick's arms and torso. He wants to fight, badly, but the gun to his head keeps him still. The goon stops at his boss' signal when the suit is bunched up around Dick's waist. 

"Cuff him," Manager says next, and Dick feels harsh metal digging into his wrists as his arms are forced behind him. Okay, this situation couldn't get any worse. 

Except it could, because Manager approaches him again and this time he's reaching for his neck. His scent blockers. 

No. 

Dick does fight this time, for what little good it will do him. He jerks back, away from Manager's grabby hands, but that just runs him against the barrel of a gun that pushes him forcefully forward. 

"Don't!" he snarls, baring his fangs in a last ditch effort to ward off the alpha. 

It does no good though, and the next second he can feel his blocker patches being ripped off violently. 

Dick tenses. He's very good at controlling his scent, thanks again to Bruce's training, but no one can hide it completely. Manager leans in, pressing his nose into Dick's gland, and inhales deeply. Dick's stomach rolls. 

"So the great Nightwing is an _omega._ " 

Surprised murmurs erupt from the alphas circled around him. The goon who took Dick's escrima drops one down onto his foot with a pained yelp. The situation has Dick so on edge that he can't even laugh at it. What a waste. 

Dick doesn't reply to Manager, just glares at him, daring him to try anything. 

"Well this changes everything," he says, eyes meeting Dick's defiant ones without a touch of fear. Instead something else is lurking behind them, reminiscent of a lioness stalking an injured gazelle, and it sets Dick's teeth on edge. 

"We're gonna have fun with you. Aren't we boys? Our own omega to play with!" 

Dick's stomach drops. 

He watches as Manager slowly unzips his fly and pulls out his cock, already half hard. It's lopsided with a head that seems much too large for its thin shaft making it awkwardly unbalanced. Dick thinks he sees something crusty caked under the ridge of the flared head. The fact that it doesn't belong to either of his alphas would render it unappetizing regardless, but it seems this alpha wants to add another level of wrongness to everything by taunting him with such an abysmally disgusting dick. 

Manager threads his fingers through Dick's hair and grabs him roughly, pulling him forward to his crotch. Dick struggles, trying to pull away, but the force of his movements jerk his bad leg, making him whimper. 

"Suck it," Manager barks at him, alpha command behind the words. 

Dick just growls. 

"I said suck! Open your mouth! What are you broken?" he tries again, using alpha command again for the orders. 

Dick clenches his jaw, fighting against the instinct to obey. He wants to bark back, tell the alpha to go fuck himself, but he doesn't dare open his mouth. Not when he's pressed so close that he can feel Manager's wild mess of scratchy pubes against his face and can smell the rancid sweat of his unwashed balls. 

"Fine," he growls out, pushing Dick away from him with a sharp shove that has him toppling over, unbalanced from his injured leg. 

"Guess you'd just prefer it in another hole, right? You omegas really are all sluts, aren't you?"

Dick freezes, icy horror coursing through his body.

"Bruno, you did good before. You can take the first turn." 

"Me, boss?"

"Yeah, you. Now hurry up with it. All you boys want a turn with the great Nightwing, don't you?" 

There's a chorus of cheers and agreement around him but Dick barely hears it, noise all a rush in his head. His time table has been moved up. He needs to leave _now_. 

Bruno comes forward, tugging at Nightwing's suit again, but this time Dick doesn't hold back, injured leg be damned. He pulls his legs up to his chest then kicks out, slamming forcefully into Bruno's chest before he can get the suit past his hips. 

Fire ripples up his left leg, but he wills himself to ignore it, using the backwards momentum from the kick to spin around and knock the gun from goon #2's hand behind him. 

He can hear the other alphas around him belatedly clamoring into action as he springs up onto his feet. His left leg buckles beneath him but he catches himself on the right one and through sheer willpower begins running towards the exit. Each step he takes with the left leg sends rivers of pain up through it. It feels like it’s tearing apart, but he doesn't stop. He knows the alternative is much worse. 

Dick sees the exit in front of him. Only a couple more steps - 

The world flips as Dick is tackled to the ground. No no no no no. 

The smell of aggressive alpha around him is overwhelming as he's held down by way too many sets of hands and his suit is ripped the rest of the way off him. He screams as it's jerked carelessly over his injured leg. 

The alphas around him are speaking, taunting him, but he can't focus on anything besides struggling, trying to get away. He has to get away...

He doesn't get away. Before he knows it he can feel something hard and blunt lining up with his hole. Hips held firm he can't escape. Then it's pushing inside him, thick and dry. The alpha starts thrusting and it burns, the same way his leg does. Even worse is the burn in his soul, the sick violation of someone who isn't one of his chosen alphas taking him like this. He grits his teeth and prays for it to be over quickly. 

Eventually he starts producing slick, his traitorous body responding to the alpha inside him. It eases the slide and reduces the pain, but it makes his stomach knot in disgust. He can hear the alphas around him cheering, clamoring about how he _likes_ it. He wants to rip their throats out. 

Finally he feels the alpha's hips stutter, Dick's hell finally coming to a close. Mercifully the alpha doesn't knot him, instead pulling out and coming across Dick's bare back. The drip of warm cum over him burns into his skin. 

He just wants to be home, with his alphas, safe. 

His wish is not granted however. No sooner has the first alpha finished then he feels the next one lining up. 

Dick pleads now. _Don't do this!_ He doesn’t think he can bear it a second time. 

The alphas just laugh and he feels himself being pushed into again. 

Dick wants to zone out, wishes he could go into one of those omega fugue states he's read about, but he's painfully aware of every second. Each push and pull feels like it's tearing him apart. It's not, he knows, his omega slick is taking care of that, but it just feels so wrong, so different from _his_ alphas, the only ones who could make things right. Anything else is just marring him. 

The torture seems endless, like the time he'd caught the flu on a mission to Russia and had subsequently spent twelve hours puking his guts out into the tiny bathroom of the Batplane. What he wouldn't give now to have Bruce here, stroking his hair and telling him everything was going to be alright. There's no promise of home and rest and comfort at the end of this torture, even if it does have his stomach clenching in the same way. Each alpha that finishes is replaced by another, and another, each one carving something dark and irreversible into him until he's a shaking broken mess beneath them.

Fingers grip is hair again and his head is being yanked back. He looks up with glassy eyes and sees Manager there. 

"Mmm. Finally my turn with you Nightwing. Have you been waiting?" 

Nightwing just glares, mustering up a bit of anger for the sick fuck that ordered this done to him. That was about to do it to him himself. 

"Tell me though. How is it that a pretty thing like you is unmarked, huh?" he asks, running a thumb over Dick's gland. Dick's body stiffens, every muscle going tense on high alert.

"I'm thinking maybe we should fix that," Manager purrs in his ear. 

"Don't touch me!" Dick screams, thrashing against the hold, fighting against him with every fiber of his being. There was no way he was going to be permanently bonded to this low life criminal _rapist_. He would rather die. 

"Boss, are you sure?" one of the lower level goons questions. One of Dick's rapists. This level of inhumanity too much even for scum like him. "Maybe we should ask the big boss first…" 

"Maybe you should shut your trap and learn your place," Manager counters. 

Dick prays the goon will grow a spine, or that any of the rest of them will, but no one speaks up. They don't really have a leg to stand on when they've all taken turns with Dick themselves. 

"Please. Don't do this," he begs as the alpha leans in, fangs bared. His pleas are ignored though as the alpha just keeps coming closer. Dick's heart is somewhere up in his throat, his entire chest clenching painfully as he braces himself for what is to come. He shakes, thrashing in the alpha's grasp, but he's too strong and Dick is too weak now. Fangs graze against the side of his neck and Dick slams his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. 

Blood splatters against the side of his face. 

For one horrifying second Dick is frozen before his brain catches up with him. 

There's no pain in his neck. 

That amount of blood wouldn't come from just a bite. 

The ringing sound he hears isn't just in his head. Gunshot, he realizes belatedly. 

He peels his eyes open and it's greeted to the sight of a bloody corpse leaning over his body. There's a hole through Manager's head. 

Dick should feel guilty, remorseful, saddened by the loss of life in front of him, but all he can feel is relief. 

He looks around. Had the goons turned against their own boss to save Nightwing? But no, they were searching the corners of the warehouse frantically as well, looking for the location of the shooter and pulling out their own weapons. 

Another shot rings out. Another thug falls dead. They scream, the scent of fear wafting out around them, and begin shooting wildly across the warehouse. 

Another shot from afar. Precise, right through the center of Bruno's forehead. 

Another, also marked with precision. 

Another and another and another, bodies fall one by one like flies onto the ground beside him. 

Dick knows who's there, even if he can't smell him over the scent of fear and splattered alpha blood. The deadly accurate shots tell all. 

Normally Dick would be yelling at him. Pleading with him to spare their lives, as unlikely as he is to listen. Now he can do nothing but tremble and close his eyes to the carnage, too shaken by the fate he had narrowly avoided to do anything else. 

The last of the goons drop beside him, and the echoes of gunshots finally fade away. 

It's replaced by the sound of heavy boots hurrying across the room towards him. 

Dick's trembling body is scooped into strong arms, the alpha uncaring of the mess covering him as he rushes to comfort the omega. 

"A-alpha-!" he whines, sagging against him in relief. 

A strong hand wraps comfortingly around hair matted with blood, urging his head closer, and his nose is pressed into familiar scent glands. The scent is calming and radiates protection. He tries to fight the pressure welling up inside him, not wanting to show weakness to his alpha, but moments later a shuddering sob escapes him. Once he starts he can’t stop, and he clings to his alpha desperately, drinking in his scent. 

Slade doesn’t mock him though. He simply rumbles comfortingly, low in his chest as he pulls Dick closer. As Dick settles against him he runs a hand down the omega's back. Dick freezes when he feels those fingers meet the place where warm wetness still stains his skin. It's not blood. 

A potent wave of rage emits from Slade's scent gland. Dick can't help but to flinch away from it, despite the fact that fury is aimed at those who attacked him. Slade is a powerful alpha and his scents can be overwhelming at times. Dick's even seen other alphas succumb to his alpha command. 

The alpha boldly grabs Dick now, lifting him to his chest. The overpowering scent surrounds Dick, blocking out all else, and lulling Dick into a state of calm. Alpha is here. He will protect Dick. Dick will be safe as long as he’s with his alpha. 

When Dick comes back to himself he’s in a bed and his skin feels freshly washed. Somehow he still feels dirty. 

The safe protective alpha smell is surrounding him comfortingly, and he can feel a warm presence at his back. Looking around he realizes he’s in some kind of nest, albeit a poorly constructed one. He gasps in realization and twists around to look at the alpha behind him. 

Slade “Mr. Macho Man Alpha” Wilson had _built a nest_ for him?

Slade’s eye flicks down to meet his as he turns, and the hands around his waist coax Dick to roll over and face him properly. 

“You with me again little bird?” 

“I’m… yeah. I’m okay. I’m sorry. You built a nest?” 

“You went into an omega fugue state. I was worried about you.” 

He brushes some hair back from Dick’s forehead gently and Dick presses into his touch. 

An omega fugue state? They were so rare some people doubted their existence. Usually it only happened if an omega had experienced extreme distress… 

Dick clenches his eyes shut tightly as if that will block out the memories of what happened. It doesn't, and they wash over him like phantom touches across his skin. He swears he can still feel the alphas inside him, still feel their bruising fingers on his hips. If his body had gone into a fugue state it had picked piss-poor timing. He would much rather have lost memory of the _during_ than the after. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles out belatedly in reply to Slade’s admission. He should probably be on his knees thanking him. If it weren’t for him Dick would be permanently bound to some random alpha thug right now. A shudder runs through him. He wants to avoid thinking about what almost happened for a little bit longer. It was too much, still too raw. All he wants is to lay in his nest with the comforting scent of his alpha. 

Unfortunately, he and Slade are on different wavelengths. The alpha’s hand which had been petting his hair comfortingly slips down to his neck, and he rubs a thumb over Dick’s scent gland. 

“Little Bird. Let me mark you.”

Dick shivers. 

“We’ve talked about this. Bruce…” 

“Fuck the Bat! If he doesn’t want to mark you then that’s on him. A real alpha protects their omega. That includes giving them their mark. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did?”

“I know okay,” Dick says shakily, the anger in Slade’s scent overwhelming in the small space of the nest, “I know and I… Thank you Slade. You saved me. And I’ll never be able to truly thank you enough for that but... I can’t let you mark me.” 

“And what are you going to do if something like that happens again and next time I’m not there?” 

Dick says nothing. He doesn’t want to think about what happened, let alone something like that happening again. He and Slade have had this same tired discussion countless times, but now Slade has added more ammunition to his argument. 

“I make a lot of compromises for you Grayson. I even put up with sharing you with the Bat. I can leave space for him to mark you too if that’s what you need, but you have to realize how dangerous it is to be running around out there as an unclaimed omega. You need to let your alphas mark you.” 

“Our identities-” 

“Last I checked you were Nightwing now, not Robin. You don’t have to follow everything he says as law-”

“I don’t, I-”

“You do. You put his twisted ideals over even your own safety. If you’re worried about being found out you can wear scent blockers-” 

“They can be removed-” 

“Then let me claim you fully! If the Bat won’t do it then just cut him out. No one in your precious circle of socialites will know my scent, it won’t reveal anything.”

“Slade, please. We’ve talked about this too many times before. You know my answer is no.” 

“If you won’t let me mark you, then for your own protection you should at least-”

“Slade.”

“wear a-”

“No.”

“collar.”

“Slade, no!” Dick growls out in irritation, “I’m not wearing one of those. I’m not a pet!” 

“It will protect you.” 

Dick is annoyed; the argument is not new, and Slade knows his position. But the events of the day catch up with him suddenly, and he loses his will to fight. It’s like all energy has been drained from him, his body sagging into the bed in distress.

“Slade please,” he whimpers, “I can’t do this right now. After everything that happened today, I just need-” 

The alpha pulls Dick into his chest, squeezing him tightly and wrapping his large body around him protectively. And this. This is why, despite the arguments, the moral dissidence, and everything else, that Dick chose Slade as one of his alphas. He knows how to give Dick exactly what he needs when he needs it. 

“I’m sorry Little Bird,” he whispers softly into Dick’s ear, “I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll discuss it later. For now, can I at least scent mark you?” 

Dick nods against his chest and bares his neck. Slade leans down to him and rubs their glands together, covering Dick in his protective alpha scent. One that says _my omega, stay away_. Normally Dick may be annoyed at such a strong scent, but for now it makes him feel safe and loved. 

What happened today will haunt him for a long time, and he knows the discussion with Slade is not over either, but just for a little while longer he wants to stay in the nest which his alpha built and block out the rest of the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> There is so much more I wanted to add to this but I was rushing to finish it at the last minute. T.T Poor Dick is going to have lots of trauma...


End file.
